Happy slightly belated birthday, George Harrison.
The weather today was beautiful-- mild and breezy and warm enough to forgo a scarf, even for a long walk, and to open the window in my room. For the past few days, I've been really happy. Not just happy as in 'not very sad,' which is what I'm usually more than willing to settle for this time of year, but really, genuinely happy. There was even some giggling involved. I went for a long walk in the West Village this morning, I'm freshly showered, and my room is clean and full of that lovely yellow-pink light of late afternoon. And tonight, I'm going to revel in the joy of being bookish by listening to audiobooks and doing homework at my newly cleared-off desk.
Today has been an excellent, excellent day.
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